


It's Fine, I'm Okay

by JellybeanSweet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1, Alpha Derek Hale, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Established Relationship, Hurt Derek Hale, Injured Derek Hale, Lots of Yikes, M/M, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Violence, Whump, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellybeanSweet/pseuds/JellybeanSweet
Summary: It's calmed down in Beacon Hills, but every now and then it ramps back up for some random Big Bad conjured up by the Nemeton, or just some hunter trying to kill Derek. Sometimes, Derek can't avoid getting injured.(Aka 5 Times Derek Gets Hurt, and Once It's Derek and Stiles)





	1. Chasing a Wendigo

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic on Ao3. Comments and Ratings are appreciated! 
> 
> Mostly written while half asleep, and I have no beta, and I didn't really edit this. All mistakes are mine. Oh well.

“So, you’re telling me that the thing murdering people in the preserve is a Wendigo, something previously found only in Northern-Midwest Forests, like Minnesota or Canada, _never seen before in California_ , and it used to be a human that developed a craving for other humans, and is now a beast with elongated body parts and long claws?” Derek asked, trying his best to summarize the splurge of information Stiles had basically just exploded from his mouth.

****

Stiles nodded. “Essentially that, yeah.”

****

Derek groaned. Loudly.

****

Despite the fact that Derek and Stiles had kind of begun a romantic relationship a month or so ago, mostly comprised of littles dates here and there as well as some light cuddling during pack nights, they definitely still bantered. A lot.

****

“At least it’s not human and has no morals,” Erica began. “Ya’know, so we can kill it.”

****

Stiles snapped his fingers and pointed to her. “Great point.”

****

Scott sighed. “You’re sure we can’t _not_ kill it?”

****

“Yes. You talk to it, and it will rip out your vocal chords,” Stiles confirmed. “It has lost its mind.”

****

Lydia rolled her eyes. “So… how do you kill it?”

****

Stiles grinned. “Easy.” He made a face. “Well, not really but, kinda.” He held up a box of matches. “You have to burn it up.”

****

“You know, now it makes sense why that was there,” Scott pointed out.

****

Stiles snorted. “Yeah. I feeling you all should have caught on to that earlier.”

****

Jackson, ever the wordsmith, scoffed at the exchange.

****

“Anyways,” Derek grumbled, “what’s the plan to draw out the Wendigo? We have to know what attracts it out, then how to get it into a spot where we can burn it, but not any of us or the rest of the preserve.”

****

“I’m glad you asked.” Stiles grinned before continuing on. “I was thinking about having someone pretend to be injured, because that’s easy prey, and when the Wendigo actually shows up, whoever the bait is can run towards a clearing where we have a ring of lighter fluid or something, and once it’s in the circle we can light it then throw some fluid on the Wendigo or something.”

****

“That seems reasonable,” Scott mused. “It can probably work, we just need to go buy some lighter fluid.”

****

“How can you be sure the Wendigo will show up?” Isaac countered. “It hasn’t killed every night, and certainly not in the same spot.”

****

“Well, Wendigos don’t change their hunting grounds often, and in this case, the Preserve is the hunting grounds. The last missing person was taken about two days ago, which means the Wendigo probably _just_ finished eating the previous victim up, and will be on the prowl for one or two more defenseless beings to store,” Stiles explained while rubbing his hands together. “Wendigos don’t immediately kill their prey. They keep them alive for as long as possible while eating them to keep the body fresh, and they also want to always have a supply, so there still may even be a victim alive in the cave if we hurry and get this done.”

****

“So, do you have any idea where the Wendigo will be in the Preserve, or do you think the thing will just know exactly where to go to get easy prey?” Isaac questioned.

****

“Well, I was thinking we could possibly fake a fight so we make some noise to help bring the thing closer, than we can have one person retreat and one ‘injured’ person left behind for the Wendigo to come and snatch.” Stiles grinned. “Who wants to be bait and who wants to fake beat them up?”

****

Nobody volunteered.

****

“Cool,” Stiles mumbled. “I’ll just pick someone if you guys don’t volunteer.”

****

“I’ll be bait,” Derek grumbled. Stiles frowned at his boyfriend; Derek usually volunteered to be bait, and it was so much easier to get injured as bait.

****

“I’ll chase him,” Peter cut in, a smile on his face leaving Stiles slightly uncomfortable. Derek looked down at the floor, face blank.

****

“O-kay then…” Stiles mumbled. “Anyways, Derek and Peter will fake fight, Derek will do something scary and Peter will run away in terror.”

****

Derek smirked at Peter, who’s own smile had faded. Stiles felt a little bit better for having said that.

****

“Then, hopefully, the wendigo will show up and we can trap it and then set it on fire,” Stiles finished, a proud look on his face.

****

“So where is the wendigo supposed to be? Like, how close to it’s nest do you think we’re going to be? We do want to find the newest victim,” Scott pointed out.

****

“We should be pretty close. All of the killings have been in the Preserve, fairly close the trailhead ‘Thicket Creek’, so I believe if we head in from there, then off of the trail a little, we should be right in the target zone for the Wendigo. In comparison to the main trailhead that goes into the preserve, the one the wendigo is centered on isn’t actually that deep in, which concerns me a little about being spotted or the wendigo having already gotten a new victim.”

****

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Scott finally said, looking to Derek for confirmation.

****

“We can do our best, and if it doesn’t work, we can simply rework the plan,” Derek concluded.

****

There was a confirmation from the rest of the pack, and then they were on their way to the trailhead to scope out and set up the trap for the wendigo.

****

—-

****

“Okay, you two ready to go?” Stiles whispered through his phone.

****

“Always. What about you?” Stiles could feel Peters smirk through the phone as he spoke.

****

Stiles grimaced. “Yup. We’re all ready for you whenever you come. Stay safe.”

****

The call disconnected and a loud roar sounded through the forest, unmistakably Peter.

****

Erica and Boyd were hidden low up in the trees along with Scott and Allison. Isaac was waiting for the wendigo to come, and when it did, he, Lydia, and Jackson were to find the nest and release any possible victims. They were also tasked with any bodies inside the nest. Kira was with them as well, alert in case the wendigo was to come back.

****

Stiles was high enough in the trees to where the wendigo could not reach him, and he could most likely get down without hurting himself. He had a bat laying across two branches, just in case.

****

Derek came hurtling through the small clearing, blood dripping from his face and his chest. The claw marks looked real, but they weren’t. Thank you, Lydia. The blood was also not real, but it sure looked like it.

****

Derek let out a high-pitched whine as Peter ran out and slammed into Derek. They rolled on the ground before Derek pinned Peter down and roared in his face. Peter and Derek wrestled on the ground, Derek seeming to get the upper hand, if only slightly, and eventually Peter took the queue and ran out of the clearing. He would, eventually, make his way back to the clearing through the trees so he could join the others to monitor Derek.

****

Derek wheezed on the ground, fake blood dripping off of him and onto the floor. He staggered, blinking like he was becoming dizzy before finally stabilizing himself against a tree. He coughed, a wheeze sounding loudly as he inhaled.

****

The pack all waited with patience that was beginning to wear down. They needed something to happen.

****

Peter made his way back, then Stiles received a text from Lydia saying they found the nest and would alert the police of the bodies after getting out the still-alive victim.

****

Stiles turned his attention back to the clearing to continue to watch Derek.

****

One moment, Derek was there, _right there,_ and in the next he was grappling with a large, gangly creature with grotesque, ashy-white limbs and long claws. It seems the internet was correct on this one.

****

Derek roared in the face of the wendigo, making it flinch back from him and let go, leaving scratches along his arms that quickly healed.

****

Boyd, Erica, and Scott all jumped down from their trees, rushing to help their Alpha lure the wendigo straight into the puddle of lighter fluid.

****

Allison stayed in the trees next to Stiles, carefully watching the fight unfold and keeping Stiles from leaping out of the tree to interfere, knowing his Spark was currently unstable after having overused it the few hours before by setting this up and casting protection spells on the pack members going to the den.

****

Allison had her bow right next to her, one hand on it and the other ready to grab an arrow if need be.

****

Stiles cursed as he watched Derek get grabbed and scratched along his back, his shirt ripping and blood staining the ruined fabric.

****

Peter came running back to the fight, his full body slamming into the wendigo to make it get closer to the lighter fluid on the ground. He was thrown off after they rolled on the ground, body getting flung against a tree.

****

Erica and Boyd attacked together, one from each side, but the wendigo grabbed them both as they charged and slammed their heads together before tossing them on top of Peter, leaving only Derek and Scott left conscious.

****

“Don’t strain yourself!” Allison hissed at Stiles, letting an arrow go, catching the attention of the wendigo as it embedded itself into its shoulder, Allison knew fully well that Stiles was ready to jump down and help out.

****

The wendigo growled and turned around to see where the arrow had come from when Derek attacked again, shoving the wendigo into the puddle of unlit lighter fluid. Scott fumbled with the box of matches, struggling to get one out under pressure.

****

Derek made to move away from the wendigo, but it grabbed his shoulder, yanking him close before it lunged. Derek struggled to get out of the hold of the wendigo, making it only a few steps away before he was slammed into the ground, chest first, and the wendigo opened its mouth to bite at him.

****

Derek flipped over and tried to kick the face of the wendigo, but only succeeded in letting the wendigo grab his foot and pull him closer.

****

“Scott, hurry up!” Derek yelled, slashing at the wendigo’s face to force it off of his body, but it was undeterred. The wendigo opened its mouth again and bit down on Derek’s right thigh, ripping off the flesh and leaving red behind, causing Derek to yell out in pain.

****

Scott finally lit a match, throwing it on the ground. The legs of the wendigo were in the fire, making it screech. Derek kicked at the distracted creature, forcing it into the fire, before he scrambled away.

****

Scott ran over to Derek, wincing at the amount of blood leaving the wound on his right thigh.

****

“Go check on the others,” Derek wheezed. “Make sure they’re okay. I’ll be fine, I just need to heal.”

****

“But-“

****

“I’m fine. Go.”

****

Scott swallowed. He turned and ran to where Peter, Erica, and Boyd had all been knocked unconscious.

****

Stiles and Allison made their way out of the tree, Allison going to Scott and Stiles going to Derek.

****

Stiles kneeled down beside Derek and grabbed at Derek’s already ruined shirt. He ripped a little more off, wrapped it tightly around Derek’s leg, and tied it as tight as he could. The fabric turned red immediately and Stiles’ hands turned red as he pressed down to stop the bleeding.

****

“Shit, Der… you’ve gotta’ stop letting yourself get hurt and put into these situations.”

****

Derek groaned as Stiles pressed harder and harder, but said nothing else to stop him.

****

Scott returned to Derek, gently laying a hand on his leg and seeping away some of the pain, making Derek relax just a little bit more.

****

“How are the betas?” Stiles asked, taking his hands off Derek’s leg, the blood flow having almost stopped. He wiped his hands off on the ground as best as possible.

****

“They’re good. I managed to get Erica conscious before coming back over here. She’s getting Boyd and Peter awake. I’m pretty sure the only injury they have is from whenever they got knocked out.”

****

Stiles maneuvered himself behind Derek and helped him sit up, a loud groan leaving the werewolves mouth.

****

“Fuck,” Stiles mumbled, looking at the deep gashes along Derek’s back that hadn’t healed yet, blood dripping out of them sluggishly.

****

“We need to get back to the loft,” Derek grumbled, pushing himself up and off of the ground, groaning as his back stretched out the claw marks. He started walking to where the pack had parked their cars, no sign of injury in the way he walked, but everyone knew that he wasn’t impenetrable.

****

Stiles sighed, jogging to catch up with Derek, knowing the rest of the pack would closely follow behind him, slipping their fingers together and squeezing his hand in comfort.

****

“I guess we can count this one as a success?” Scott called to Stiles, always the optimist.

****

Stiles sighed. “I guess so,” he mumbled, knowing all of the wolves could hear him. Beside him, Derek let out a breath.

****

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked.

****

“I’ll be okay, Stiles, don’t worry.”

****

“I’m always gonna be worried about you, you realize that, right?”

****

Derek smiled slightly. “I know, Stiles.”

****

Stiles squeezed their hands and brought them up to his lips to kiss their interlocked fingers.

 


	2. Taking Down Rouge Hunters

Stiles cursed, watching Derek vomit black goo onto the side of the dirt road, Derek’s car a long walk away. They had come here initially to uncover some strange sightings of ‘suspicious people-things’, as the police had said when reading off a witness report, and now they were running away from rouge hunters that had caught them completely off guard.

Derek had been shot twice already, once in the arm, which bared a striking resemblance to the first time Derek had gotten shot and Stiles had to save him, and then again in his thigh of the same side. Stiles had been shot at, but not hit.

“Come on, Derek, if we just get to the car I can drive to Deatons and then we can burn the wolfsbane and out of your system, okay? We have to keep going.”

Stiles’ phone had died and Derek had left his in the car, but it had been on low battery before they left anyway. His magic was completely shot from already healing wounds on the both of their bodies and shielding them from any more, as well as trying to slow down the hunters as best he could.

Derek dry heaved, trying to stop himself from hurling again, but ultimately being unsuccessful and resulting in him needing to stop running and vomit all over the dirt beneath him.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him along, ignoring the blood that got smeared on his skin. At this point, Stiles did not know, nor could he spare a moment to think about, if it was Derek’s blood or somebody else’s.

“We don’t have that much longer to go, sourwolf, I promise,” Stiles encouraged, but Derek seemed to be losing steam rather quickly now that he had begun to throw up more and more. 

“Please, Derek, come on,” he begged. 

Derek coughed. “Leave me here.”

“No way! Absolutely not! I’m not going to leave you for the hunters to find. Stupid Alpha!”

“Stiles… please.”

Stiles turned around to look at Derek, to take in how pale he had gotten. 

“I can’t just go, what happens if you get taken?” 

“Run as fast as you can to the Camaro, then drive it back here and pick me up, okay? I’ll hide if the hunters come, but I’ll keep walking if they don’t. Please. It’s the only option right now.” Derek dug his keys out from his pocket and held them out.

“What if-“

“Go!”

Stiles swallowed. He grabbed the keys and kissed Derek’s cheek before turning away and sprinting down the dirt road, away from the poisoned, bleeding werewolf.

Stiles tried to ignore the sound of Derek’s body rejecting the wolfbane, the gagging and wheezing loud in the otherwise silent forest-surrounded road.

Stiles hoped he would be able to get back to Derek before the sun set.

He didn’t say goodbye, because it had better not be the last time he saw Derek alive.

—-

Stiles collapsed into the drivers side of the Camaro, wheezing, panting, and feeling like he was going to throw up from how much running he had just done. He heaved himself into a better position and inserted the key into the car, starting it up.

As much as Stiles wished he could, he didn’t have the time to marvel at his first experience in the driver's seat of the Camaro. He had a werewolf to pick up, and he had to do it now.

Checking his mirrors, Stiles pulled off of the side of the road and peeled off down the street, speeding to get to Derek. He knew where police officers were usually stationed for radaring if anyone was speeding, and he’s never had any trouble on this road before, so off he went.

It took Stiles entirely too long before he recognized stuff he had seen near the beginning of his run, and he slowed down to look for Derek in case the older man had strayed from the road or had passed out, and the fact that the sun was almost set did not help with visibility.

When Stiles finally saw Derek, he was relieved, and then struck with panic almost immediately because he then processed that Derek was lying on the ground.

Stiles came to a halt right next to Derek, scrambling out of the car and running to Derek’s crumpled form.

“Fuck, this is not going to be easy,” Stiles whined, doing his best to grab Derek and haul him into the passengers side of the car. It took him too long.

Stiles rushed back into the car and slammed the door shut, still not stirring Derek from his sleep.

Stiles turned the car on and slammed on the gas, moving as fast as he could to Deaton. 

—-

“Deaton! Deaton, please open the door!”

The sun had set and plunged Beacon Hills into darkness. It had begun to rain, soaking Stiles to the core as he banged on the vets door.

“Please! Deaton, Derek’s hurt!”

The light inside turned on and Deaton rushed to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open.

“Help me bring Derek inside, I can’t carry him by myself,” Stiles begged, turning back to the Camaro and maneuvering Derek out as gently as he could. Deaton closed the Camaro door and helped carry Derek into the examination room. They placed him on the metal table and Deaton immediately got to work.

“You can’t do anything for him right now, Stiles, I just need to get the right wolfsbane and burn it out, then you can help out. I think what may be best right now is if you rest and I will come wake you when I have gotten the bullets and wolfsbane out of his system.”

Stiles swallowed. “I-I’m gonna get the blood-“ he took a deep breath. “I’m gonna get the blood out of the Camaro.”

Deaton nodded and waved Stiles to where some supplies were to help him. 

Thirty minutes later, the seats were clean and Stiles was stumbling back inside, sitting down in a metal chair in the examination room, watching Deaton extract the rest of the poison from Derek’s body.

Deaton eventually finished, leaving Stiles alone with a passed out Derek. Eventually, Stiles managed to get Derek up and out of the vet's office, and into the Camaro.

Stiles shot off a text to his dad, telling him he was going to sleep at Derek’s, then started back up the Camaro and drove off to the loft.

When Stiles arrived, he shook Derek awake. Derek was only lucid enough to make it out of the car, up the stairs, and to his bed before he passed out again.

Stiles sighed, showering quickly and changing into a thin shirt and boxers from Derek’s drawers. He woke Derek up again and coerced him into taking a shower to get all of the residual blood, black goo, and wolfsbane-induced vomit. 

When Derek stepped back into his room with only a pair of thin boxers on, he collapsed onto his bed, arms coming around Stiles. Stiles shifted so his face was pressed into Derek’s chest, letting Derek inhale into his hair deeply, a soft rumble leaving his chest. They were pressed close together, clinging to one another, scared to let go.

“I thought you were going to die,” Stiles murmured, arms clinging impossibly tighter.

“I’m okay, Stiles.”

“I know. I know, but I’m still scared.”

Derek nudged Stiles’ head up, their eyes connecting. Stiles sighed, blinking slowly. 

“Tomorrow morning, when we wake up, we’re going to watch something, and we’re going to cuddle, and then we’re going to sleep and cuddle some more,” Stiles resolved.

“That sounds nice.”

Stiles nodded, but before he could close his eyes, Derek gently pulled him in closer and kissed him, mouths just gently pressing against one another. He pulled away before snuggling in close again, Stiles doing the same.

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Night, Der.”


	3. Having a Pack Night

“Hey, hey, don’t go fighting around me!” Stiles protested, hands holding his bowl of popcorn in the air as Isaac barreled over Stiles’ lap in an attempt to catch Scott, who had just provoked Isaac by throwing chips at him.

 

“Get back here!” Isaac growled, lunging for Scott. Scott laughed and dodged out of the way, ducking behind the couch.

 

“No! Stop it!” Stiles whined, hugging his popcorn close as Scott crawled over the couch, and also him, to get away from Isaac.

 

Erica laughed loudly, covering her mouth in an attempt to not be involved in the fight.

 

“This isn't funny, Erica!” Isaac grumbled, ceasing the chase to tackle Erica to the ground. She shrieked in surprise before fighting back, playfully snapping his fangs at Isaac when he pinned her down.

 

“Boyd, help me,” Erica pouted, looking directly at the other wolf, their eyes meeting. Boyd rolled his eyes and grabbed Isaacs arms, picking him up and throwing him onto the pile of pillows and blankets there were on the floor.

 

“Ah, no fair!” Isaac complained, sitting up from where he landed on the ground.

 

“Oh, come on, whatcha’ gonna do about it?” Erica taunted.

 

“Scott, attack!” Isaac yelled, slamming himself into Boyd as Scott did the same to Erica.

 

Lydia raised an eyebrow at the play fight unfolding before the rest of the pack and rolling her at as Jackson joined in on the wrestling.

 

“So unfair!” Scott and Isaac complained when Boyd, Erica, and Jackson began to over power them.

 

“Someone help us!” Scott cried dramatically. “Stiles, please! Send help!”

 

“Nah, you got into this yourself,” Stiles said, shrugging. He gathered the empty popcorn bowls and cleaned up the opened wrappers from candy and chips and took them to the kitchen. He made his way back to the couch and sat down.

 

The wrestling had evolved into more involved fighting, though Derek had long since banned the usage of claws and fangs in the loft.

 

Allison, Kira, Jackson, Boyd, Erica, Scott, and Isaac were all wrestling around with Lydia acting as referee in some way; at least, that’s what Stiles thought it looked like.

 

Stiles sighed and sat back down on the couch, trying to ignore them and continue watching the marathon of Criminal Minds that was playing on the big tv.

 

Derek came out through the front door of the loft with some groceries. Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Derek disappeared into the kitchen before he could say anything. He came back out in a few minutes and sat down next to Stiles, nuzzling into his neck and taking a deep breath.

 

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles murmured, kissing him on the cheek. Derek leaned back and let Stiles cuddle into him and watch tv.

 

Scott sent Jackson into the ground with a tackle, making Derek turn his head angrily.

 

“You break something, you pay for a new one,” Derek reminded them. The pack collectively cringed, remembering when Isaac had broken one of Derek's lamps and had then been forced to pay for it; despite this fact, the pack had then gone and broken both of the couches in the loft in the living room as well as Derek’s favorite recliner. Derek had forced them all to buy him an entire new living room set, coffee table, tv, couches, recliners, and all, then move it in themselves. The only person that had been exempt from this punishment was Stiles, who had been at the hospital with his dad, who was recovering from a nasty case of pneumonia.

 

The pack was more cautious, but they eventually managed to pull Derek into their antics. When Derek wouldn’t stop winning their little matches, Lydia had, as referee, decided to do an all out match against Derek.

 

“That's totally unfair, Lyds!” Stiles had protested, concerned eyes finding Derek’s.

 

“It’s fine. They won’t be able to take me on anyways,” Derek teased, though everyone new Derek wouldn’t actually be fighting back this time anyways.

 

Erica tackled Derek to the ground, Scott and Isaac quickly following through, before all of them landed on top of Derek.

 

Derek laughed, dramatically pretending to scream under the chaotic cluster of wolves on that were on top of him. Eventually the pack let up and gathered back on the couches and blankets and pillows.

 

Derek pulled Stiles off of the couch and sat down on the recliner, pulling Stiles down on top of him and snuggling in to watch the marathon.

 

The night continued on until the pizza guy showed up. Stiles stood up and grabbed the bundle of cash the pack had all pitched in on, paying the guy and giving him a tip for climbing all of the stairs with the numerous amount of pizzas, sauces, and cheesy breads.

 

Stiles took them to the kitchen and grabbed out plates and set up the pizzas for everyone to grab. As he continued to grab out the liters of soda Derek had just bought from the fridge, he heard what sounded like the pack beginning to wrestle and fight again, this time probably over who gets what pizza first and so on.

 

He heard yelling and a shout, and as he was walking back into the living room to let the pack to get pizza _in a civilized manner_ , he heard a thud and saw Derek on the floor with blood dripping off the side of his head and his eyes misty.

 

“What the hell did you guys do?” Stiles snapped, falling on his knees next to Derek and gently pressing his hand on the side of his head. He reached out with his spark, checking the damage.

 

“We were arguing over pizza and Derek said something about wanting at least three pieces of the five meat, and-“ Scott started. He paused, not wanting to name anybody.

 

“Someone pushed him and he slammed his head into the corner of the table?” Stiles finished.

 

Scott swallowed. “Yeah.”

 

Stiles sighed. He looked back at Derek, who still seemed a little out of it, but his eyes were starting to focus and he wasn’t bleeding anymore.

 

“Listen, just go get the soda you want and get yourselves settled out here. Leave the recliner open for Derek and I. I’m going to grab him what he wants, and what I want, and only when I’m done will I allow you guys to get your own pizza, but please don’t make a mess for him to clean up tomorrow morning,” Stiles mumbled.

 

The pack left for the kitchen and Stiles just sighed again.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Derek blinked for a moment before nodding slowly. “I’m alright. Thank you.” He smiled slightly, pushing himself up and off the ground with a small groan.

 

“Do you want to sit on the recliner?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’ll grab your pizza and your soda, then I’ll grab mine, and we can snuggle in together while the rest of the pack has to deal with it.”

 

Derek gave a little smirk as Stiles helped him stand. They made their way to the recliner and, before Derek sat down he gave Stiles a kiss on the top of the head. Stiles smiled and went to the kitchen and grabbed their food and drinks before coming back and settling in Derek’s arms, their stuff on the little side table next to the chair.

 

The rest of the pack gathered in the living room, smiling at Derek and Stiles snuggling in the chair, all in their own little world.

 


	4. Cooking with Stiles

Stiles hummed softly, whisking the pancake batter gently as the stovetop began to heat up the pan.

 

He set down the batter and grabbed the eggs off the counter, cracking some into a bowl and adding in a little bit of bacon and cheese before setting that down next to a different pan, also heating up. 

 

Stiles opened the oven, checking on the rest of the bacon that was cooking. He closed the door, knowing how long they would most likely take to finish. 

 

He scooped out a spoonful of the pancake batter and poured it out onto the stove, already dreaming of the way the chocolate chips would hopefully melt in his mouth as he ate them.

 

He cooked up more pancakes, threw on the eggs, and eventually pulled the bacon out of the oven and set it on a plate. 

 

Stiles felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist as he cooked the eggs. He melted into the embrace, humming in content. 

 

“Morning,” Derek mumbled, snuggling closer to Stiles.

 

“Good morning, Der-bear,” Stiles teased. Derek snorted a laugh in response, kissing the top of his boyfriends head and swaying the two of them softly in the early hours of the morning.

 

“Why are you up so early?”

 

Stiles shrugged. “Dunno. Just kinda woke up this morning and decided to stay up and cook. It was a struggle though, you’re so warm, especially when we’re cuddling. I made some coffee a few minutes ago and I poured you a cup, so you could just nuke it in the microwave whenever you actually came down.” Stiles nodded to a steaming cup of coffee.

 

“Thanks.” Derek let go with one arm to reach around Stiles and grab the cup. He took a sip and hummed before setting it back down. “Delicious.”

 

Stiles laughed. “I’m sure.”

 

Derek smiles into Stiles’ neck, peppering him with kisses before eventually releasing him and loosely letting his hands drop to Stiles’ waist and rest there.

 

“Can I help with anything?” 

 

“Uh, I don’t think so. I mean, you can cut up some fruit for us to eat if you’d like any fruit. I think you’ve got apples and some strawberries in there? You need to go grocery shopping.”

 

“You mean  _ we _ need to go grocery shopping? You’re all moved in, after all, have been for a week or so.”

 

Stiles paused for a moment, and turned to smile at Derek.

 

“I have to be honest, I kind of forgot I officially moved in. I already spent so much time here after I finished college, and I work from my laptop anyways, I suppose this doesn’t feel much different than it did a few months ago. It feels like home, especially when you’re around.”

 

“Well, I’m glad it already feels like home,” Derek mumbled, cheeks flushing slightly.

 

Stiles smiled and turned back to his eggs and pancakes with a little hop.

 

Derek let go of Stiles’ waist and turned to the fridge to grab the apples and strawberries and then grabbed a knife and a cutting board. He washed off the fruit and then grabbed a plate to put the cut fruit on.

 

Stiles moved around Derek, beginning to set the table while a new round of pancakes cooked. The eggs were off the stove and in their own bowl that Stiles set on the table, next to the plate of bacon.

 

Stiles whipped passed Derek again to stop the pancakes from burning, touching their lips together for a moment before moving on.

 

Derek chuckled as Stiles flipped the pancakes and then slid back over to wrap his hands around the wolf’s waist.

 

“You’re so warm,” Stiles complained, practically suctioning himself to Derek’s back.

 

“After we eat, and clean up, we can cuddle on the couch and maybe I’ll spend a little time heating you up.”

 

Stiles’ eyes sparkled. “Oh really?”

 

Derek scoffed. “Not like that, idiot.” He turned around and pulled Stiles close, his mouth next to Stiles’ ear. “The first time we have sex is going to be spent in our bed, slow, hot, and you’ll be begging for me to just move, Derek, move, a little more-“

 

Stiles flushed hotly, eyes widening before he looked away in embarrassment. The air changed with the hint of arousal, causing Derek’s eyes to look to Stiles’ and Stiles to shrink in on himself.

 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, Stiles,” Derek murmured. “It’s natural.” Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ lips. “You turn me on too.”

 

Stiles blushed even more, if possible. 

 

“I have to take the pancakes off and put on the last few,” Stiles mumbled, gently moving away from Derek. The wolf turned around and began cutting up the rest of the fruit.

 

Stiles took the last of the pancakes off a few minutes later, putting them out on the table and setting the rest of the table. He grabbed Derek’s cup of coffee, refilling it before filling his own. He placed them on the table, turning back to Derek to tell him to hurry up.

 

As Stiles opened his mouth to tease Derek, he was stopped by the sound of Derek yelling loudly and jerking his hand away from the fruit.

 

Blood dripped down from his hand, his finger split wide open.

 

Stiles ran over to Derek, grabbing Derek’s hand and forcing him to thrust it under running water.

 

“Stiles, it’ll heal in a minute or two and you know I can’t get infected. Werewolf, baby, I’m a werewolf.”

 

Stiles huffed, jerking his own hand away. “Sometimes you’re an idiotic werewolf.” He turned the water off, turning around with a pout.

 

“Can’t deny that.”

 

“Sorry, sourwolf, it was instinct. My dad has done it a few times, and so has Scott, at least, before he was turned.”

 

Derek smiled. “It’s fine.”

 

“Well, at least you know I care,” Stiles said, head cocked to the side with a grin on his face, turning back around to face Derek.

 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, at least I know you care.” He looked back to his hand and wiped off the blood best he could. “See, all healed now?”

 

“But still covered in blood.”

 

Derek sighed. “I can never please you, can I?”

 

Stiles snorted. “Oh, you’re plenty pleasing.”

 

Once again, Derek rolled his eyes, washing his hands off, no blood on them any more.

 

He turned around and put his cold, wet hands against Stiles’ neck, making the man shriek in surprise, struggling to get away. Derek trapped him with the other hand, snaking it under his shirt and flat against his stomach.

 

“You’re hands are so cold!” Stiles whined, struggling away fruitlessly. “And wet, Derek! Wet!”

 

“You were the one that told me to get them wet in the first place,” Derek hummed. “And then you just looked so innocent, standing there, cute little look on your face and-“

 

Stiles blushed furiously red, covering his ears with his hands. “Stop,” he whined, looking at Derek with his big, amber eyes.

 

Derek smiled and wiped off his hands. He pulled Stiles in close, pressing their lips together before slowly pulling back. Stiles looked ready to dive back in, but Derek put a finger in front of his lips to stop him.

 

“Not right now. I’m in the mood for light, please. I don’t really want to get any more than that.” Stiles smiled in response.

 

“Okay. I know. Taking it slow. Right.” He grinned brightly, pulling Derek to the table with a soft kiss on the cheek as they sat down to eat breakfast together. 

  
  



	5. Fighting a Witch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the chapters getting shorter. The next one will be much longer, promise.

Derek wheezed, struggling to regain his breath as the rest of his body felt like it was on fire.

Screw witches. Seriously, screw them.

Derek groaned, shuddering before starting to make movements akin to that of a seizure. He wheezed, sweat dripping down his face as his body seemed to tighten.

Derek would repeat his sentiments until the ends of time. God, fuck witches!

Derek tried to take a deep breath, but it’s like his body just doesn’t have the energy to deal with in taking oxygen anymore. He wheezed again, sweat dripping down his neck.

“Derek?!”

The Alpha wolf let out a loud groan.

“Derek! Derek, where are you? I heard that!”

A whine pierced the air.

“Oh god, Derek, oh my- so much-“

The sound of someone gagging covered the noise of Derek’s heaving breaths.

—-

Derek was brought back to consciousness by something touching his face gently. He didn’t open his eyes immediately, but he instinctively shuddered away from the hand.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, but I’m really glad you’re awake,” a voice mumbled.

Derek’s eyes finally opened to see Stiles sitting on his bed, hand on Derek’s forehead.

Stiles smiled, turning away for a moment to grab the washcloth that had been previously hidden. He shook it a little before folding it up, gently placing it on Derek’s forehead.

The Alpha sighed in relief, eyes fluttering minutely.

“Are you feeling any better? The witch hexed you with extreme fever symptoms and the fact that you were exerting yourself too much combined with her magic just made it so much worse than what she intended for it to be.”

Derek attempted a smile. “A bit. The washcloth is nice. Thank you.”

Stiles smiled again. “Do you want any water?”

“Yeah. Please.”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s head and helped him take a sip from where he way laying down.

“I was able to find a counter spell to lessen the fever symptoms, but you will probably be sick for another day or so,” Stiles soothed, rubbing a hand through Derek’s matted hair. He wiped a bit of sweat from Derek’s cheek, making the werewolf smile weakly.

“Thanks.”

“Of course. Anything you need, I’ll be right here.”

Derek gave his best smile.

“In addition to the fever, you’ve got a rash spread out on your body. I’m not sure what caused it, possibly a side effect of the spell, but it has been easing up for a while, so I can’t image it will be there much longer. It’s just a heat rash, so it makes sense that there may have been an additional clause added to the spell that blocks your ducks and causes sweat to stay trapped under the skin. Either way, it’s getting better with time.”

Stiles just got a soft hum in acknowledgment. He laid down next to the werewolf, snuggling up close and sighing, eyes half-open as he watched Derek breath evenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short. The next one is longer!!! :)


	6. +1. Against a Monster They've Never Heard Of

“You know, I’ve really enjoyed today so far,” Stiles stated, breaking the silence that had been between him and Derek. Their hands were locked together as they walked down a path in the preserve, heading back to the parking lot so they could go home.

Derek smiled, teeth showing. “I’m happy it’s been a good day. I’m also happy I get to watch the moon rise with you when we make it to the clearing in a few minutes.”

Stiles nodded, swinging their hands a little. Derek squeezed, smiling softly at Stiles when he looked up. The Spark returned the smile before his gaze drifted back to their hands.

“We should really do this more often. It’s nice, just being with you.” Derek pulled Stiles a little closer with the admittance.

“Yeah… it really…” Derek began. He whipped his head around, going mysteriously still. “What…”

Derek turned with vigor, grabbing Stiles’ waist and throwing him to the side.

Stiles yelled as he tumbled away, eyes glued to Derek when he recovered, shocked.

Derek roared, fangs bared and eyes flashing, before getting slammed against a tree by a beast Stiles had never seen before.

The beast rumbled.

Derek growled before slashing at the beast, momentarily knocking it off balance. With the slight advantage, Derek attacked again, using all his strength to hurt the 7-foot tall creature away.

Derek ran to Stiles, picking him up off the ground and running. Stiles scrambled to keep up with Derek, his legs already beginning to protest due to the harsh pace.

“What the hell? What is that thing?” Stiles cried, his hold on Derek’s hand tightening.

“I have no idea. I just hope we can outrun it,” Derek huffed.

They run for a long time, but the beast it constantly behind them. With no place to take cover, and no rest, Stiles can no longer keep up the pace.

Derek yanks Stiles back up from where he had slipped to the ground for a split second.

“Just let me go,” Stiles begged. “If you run, you can get back up, or something? Derek, I can’t… I can’t run… I’m too tired for magic… please?”

“I refuse to leave you behind!” Derek countered.

“Please!” Stiles slipped from Derek’s grasp. The wolf turned to grab at him again, but in an instant the beast was upon them.

The monster slammed Derek into the ground before picking him up by his legs. With a hearty grunt, the beast swung the wolf directly into the nearest tree, immediately knocking him out.

Blood was smeared against the tree, coating it in a rich red. Derek laid on the ground, shirt and flesh ripped open by the bark of the tree. He was coated in his own blood. His mouth, open only slightly, was dripping red, teeth bloody and some of them missing.

“Derek!”

The beast roared, kicking Derek again.

Stiles screeched in surprise, the beast grabbing him around the torso, arms squeezing tightly. Stiles struggled, but only succeeded in losing oxygen.

The beast dropped the Spark to the ground, roaring for the umpteenth time. The breath was knocked out of Stiles’ body with the drop.

The beast grabbed onto Stiles’ legs, dragging the exhausted man through the forest, knowing he had won the battle.

—-

Derek awoke with a start, a guttural groan ripping from his throat as he pushed himself off of the ground. He spat out a few teeth, already feeling them almost fully regrown.

He looked down to see his shirt torn to shreds. With a groan he peeled it off to inspect the wounds on his torso. There was bark imbedded into his skin, and he was extremely badly bruised, probably from his multiple cracked and broken ribs.

With a heave, Derek shoved himself to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. He took a deep inhale, cringing as he smelled the overwhelming amount of fear from Stiles and the rotting smell that could only be from the beast.

Derek winced as his fangs grew back into place. He cracked his neck with a gasp and began to move.

Derek took another inhale, trying to center on the smell of the beats and Stiles mixed together, as much as he hated to think of it.

Derek started on the trail with a staggered jog. As an afterthought, he checked his phone; it was bent and cracked, and refused to turn on. Derek resisted the urge to chuck it and continued on his trail.

He thought about roaring to call for his pack, but there was a potential to alert the beast he was still alive and now conscious, and he was far too deep into the preserve to be heard.

Derek lost track of time as he followed the scent of his boyfriend and the beast, eventually slowing so he could stay silent as the scent strengthened.

It took a fierce shake of his head for Derek to clear his thoughts and focus; he ignored the pain in his chest and he slowly healed, instead trying to listen for any noise from Stiles.

The sound of a yell of pain, a sound unmistakable as Stiles, almost made Derek roar, but he forced himself to keep control and sneak into the cave of the beast.

Derek stayed low and slow, eyes assisting him in the dark. He was shifted in his beta form, making his way through the cave.

In a second, Derek rounded the corner of the split in the back of the cave and roared as loud as he could as he leaped for the beast.

Derek’s claws shredded through to flesh of the creature, his rage fueling his energy. Derek slashed and bit away, slamming the beast into a wall before striking at its throat.

The beast collapsed to the cold floor, and Derek felt no gratification. They had been taking down so quickly only just prior, and now the beast was seemingly dead. Derek felt pathetic. He shifted back before running to Stiles.

“Hey, come on, I’ve got you,” Derek murmured, eyes flitting quickly over the Spark as he examined the injuries. “Fuck.”

Stiles groaned as Derek picked him up, head lolling to the side before the wolf shifted him to support his limbs.

Derek stumbled out of the cave, a whine buried deep in his throat.

Derek let out a roar, this time a call for help from his pack. A plea from the Alpha to come. He could only plead that he wasn’t too far into the preserve any more.

Derek wheezed, moving his head to the side to cough, a little bit of blood coming up.

He kept walking, trying to smell his way to the Camaro, but they had been running for so long, and he had been desperate to find Stiles, and now he was practically lost in the dark of the night, trying to find his way through the preserve while only slightly conscious. The boy in his arms was not helping the situation.

Derek roared again, a plea, begging for some salvation. He was suffering, and when he heard no roar back, he tried one more time.

When Derek heard the sound of a faint roar, it sounded like Boyd, his legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground. He fell first, cushioning Stiles’ fall on top of him.

Even as the pressure on his chest increased with Stiles’ weight on him, Derek was out as soon he heard the echo of Boyd’s roar stop.

—-

Derek woke slowly this time, breathing lightly and without strain.

There was some noise, just a soft murmur Derek couldn’t understand until a hush fell and only one person was talking.

“I think he’s waking up. His heart rate just increased.” The voice was distinctly male.

Derek sucked in a deep breath, eyes slowly opening.

“Hey, welcome back.”

Derek blinked a few times, squinting so his eyes could adjust to the light of the room he was in. His eyes managed to adjust fairly quickly. He saw Erica standing beside the bed he was laying in, and Boyd next to her.

Erica smiled. “Hi.”

Derek closed his watery eyes, still sensitive in the bright light. “Hey.” He waited a moment. “Where am I?”

“Hospital. We had to take Stiles in, and you, even while unconscious, wouldn’t let go of him, and we didn’t have time to separate you too. You’re currently in recovery. Melissa made a convincing argument about the blood you were coated in being Stiles’, and that you only had some minor cuts to his big ones. That way, when the big cuts you actually had were almost all the way healed, just as they are now, you’re all good to go. She said can check out of the hospital once you woke up and stayed awake for longer than ten minutes,” Erica explained.

“Before you ask, Stiles is just a few doors down. His dad is in there. Melissa had to go back to work and Scott took Isaac to the Loft to get you and Stiles clothes. Lydia and Jackson have been informed, but they’re a few hours out because they’re still returning from their vacation,” Body put in.

Derek nodded. “Can I see him?”

Boyd sighed. “I don’t know. We haven’t asked about you, but Scott couldn’t go in. He got out of surgery not too long ago, and he’s got some pretty bad broken and bruised ribs that are bound up so they can heal. So far only the Sheriff has gone in.”

Derek whined, but accepted. “How bad is he?”

“He looks better than he did when you guys both came in. He’s clean now, not soaked in blood. He’s gotten less pale, and he doesn’t look as ghastly, I guess you could say. The doctors told us that surgery was kind of touch and go on-“ Boyd was cut off by a noise. He glanced to Derek, who looked pained.

“He’s okay, right?”

“Yeah, Alpha, he’s very alive,” Erica soothed, scooting closer in her chair and rubbing his arm as she laid her head on the mattress.

“It was touch and go once they found out he had internal bleeding and had punctured a lung because of a broken rib. It must have happened on the ambulance ride, though, because he would have been showing symptoms of it before, and he hadn’t been. Other than that, he’s mostly okay. He has a sprained ankle and his muscles will probably be sore for a while because of all the running,” Boyd finished, joining Erica in comforting Derek.

“Does he have a concussion?”

“Minor. The doctors said it should fade away completely, a little over 2 months, as long as he follows the rules and takes care of himself,” Erica explained.

Derek sighed. “When can I see him?”

“Soon, I hope. Besides, he hasn’t woken up just yet. Doctors predict anywhere from a few more hours to a few more days.”

Derek shifted. “Okay.”

Boyd grabbed Derek’s hand. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you into a shared room or something, alright?”

Derek hummed, falling back asleep.  
—-

When Derek woke up again, it was dark. The curtains to the room were closed, the lights were off, and all he could hear was the heart monitor, extremely irregular beats.

Derek shifted, wincing as his ribs strained.

He looked around, and his dazed eyes finally caught on to something different. Another bed.

Derek smiled, taking in a deep breath. The smell of hospital overwhelmed his senses, but after a moment it calmed and he smelled what he had been looking for. Stiles.

Derek craned his head to the side, looking for his boyfriend, eyes finally settling on pale skin.

Derek’s eyes slipped shut before he could keep looking.

—-

When Derek woke up for the third time in the hospital, there was an extra weight on his body. He cracked open his eyes, heart noisily speeding up as he recognized Stiles laying gently against Derek, under the covers and everything. Derek shifted, giving Stiles some room.

It was then he realized that the room was bright; it was day again. He also realized the Sheriff was sitting in once of the chairs, head thrown back in a quiet snore.

Then, when Derek shifted again, he noticed once more thing. Stiles was awake, because his heartbeat was at waking speed, and he has just shifted against Derek once the wolf had stopped moving.

“Stiles?”

Said man opened his eyes slowly, a smile spreading on his face when he saw Derek.

“Good morning, big bad.”

Derek smiled. “Hey. How do you feel?”

Stiles laughed. “Like I’ve been dragged across the forest floor for hours.”

Derek took Stiles’ hand gently, smiling softly to himself. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Stiles shifted closer to Derek. “I’m glad you’re okay, too. When that thing threw you against the tree, and I saw all that blood and then you weren’t moving, I thought he had killed you. It looked like your head slammed into the tree, and there was blood all over your face. God, I was so scared.”

Derek pulled Stiles closer. “I’m alive, and you’re alive. We’re both alive, and that’s what matters the most right now.”

Stiles smiled. “I know.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s warm and heartbeat.

“Do you know when you’ll be discharged?” Derek asked.

“Well, I’m awake. I think they said something about that?” Stiles asked. “I woke up once before, and dad tried to explain everything, but I was still pretty out of it, you know?”

“Yeah. I’ve woken up twice before this. I think I’m good to go, though, my chest is less bruised and I feel okay, and I’ve probably been awake for over long enough by now. Besides, if I stay too long, somebody is going to notice the absence of any injuries at all.”

“Yeah. I’m probably good to go, as long as I have someone to stay with me. To make sure I don’t strain myself,” Stiles explained, pretending to be serious and nodding.

“I’d be happy to stay with you,” Derek teases.

Stiles smiled. “You have to, you live with me.”

Derek finally, finally, leaned to his side and kissed Stiles, both of them melting into it because it felt like it had been so long.

“I love you, you know,” Derek murmured. “If anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.”

Stiles grinned. “I love you, too. A lot.”

They kissed again, reveling in the fact that they’re both alive, that they’re going to be fine.

“You’re stuck with me now, you know.”

“I’m more than okay with that.”

“I love you. I love you so much. God, I’m so happy I get to say that. I love you, Derek Hale.”

Derek laughed, a wide grin on his face.

“I love you too, Mieczysław Stilinski.”

Stiles gasped. “Dad told you! No!”

Derek laughed. “I found it on your records. I was going through the stuff at the Sheriff's department and on of the records that fell out just so happened to be yours, because I was reorganizing the files since the intern was gone and it was a slow day. I asked your dad how to say it, but he made me do it first. I guessed, and he laughed and said that it was pretty close.”

Stiles pouted.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Derek murmured, culling Stiles face.

Stiles laughed, his cheeks hurting from how hard he had been smiling. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Derek's.

“I love you,” Stiles mumbled softly.

“I love you, too.”

They fell asleep as the sun rose higher.

When the Sheriff woke up to find them snuggling tightly on the hospital bed, he sighed, rolled his eyes, and left to grab himself a cup of coffee; they would probably be there for a while.


End file.
